


promise me a garden

by lachtara



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Also bickering, F/F, I am not sorry, Meet-Cute, it's just 1.7k of shameless flirtation, oh look it's just the mandatory tattoo parlor/flower shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24501856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lachtara/pseuds/lachtara
Summary: The loud music from the new tattoo parlor is upsetting Astra's plants, so she decides to do something about it.
Relationships: Charlie & Astra Logue, Charlie/Astra Logue
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	promise me a garden

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, the idea came and it just wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote the mandatory tattoo parlor/flower shop AU. Hope you enjoy it.

The walls were vibrating again, the loud tasteless punk rock wail reaching Astra’s ears and making her shudder. She scratches her nails against the wooden counter and tries not to grind her teeth together.

It’s been only a week since the tattoo parlor opened next door and she tried being accommodating and give them time to adjust, her mother raised her well after all, and she can appreciate a good bass rift as much as anyone, but her plants are sensitive, and there’s only so much good care and love can do.

A bluebell bud drops into the white counter and her last strand of patience snaps along with it. She doesn’t care that the owner is a friend of John’s or that she’ll make a scene, her flowers deserve better, her mother’s memory deserves better.

Natalie raised her to be polite, but she also raised her to stand up for herself.

So she turns the sign on the door and marches from the pastel green and orange colored store to the black and red facade and pulls the door open with enough force to almost tear the stupid bell right off the wall.

But once shes inside something makes her stop on her tracks. Taking in the place she notices the new owner has taken the old wood paneling off the walls and exposed the original brick of the building, there are two black leather couches arranged in an L shape and a glass center table, some portifolios scattered on top of it. A gorgeous red Persian rug on the floor delimits the waiting area and there’s artwork hanging on the walls.

Astra heads towards the sleek black counter to check for the owner. There’s a new song playing now, and she flashes back to her mother’s garage, sitting on a beat down couch with a book on her lap while her mother and John messed around with their instruments. It had been almost a decade now since her mom died but Astra still remembered her voice and how Natalie loved to sing, either to her at night or on the garage or even just humming while she cooked lunch.

She had no idea John had kept any tapes from their recordings, sentimentalism was something they both rarely afforded, let alone shared them with someone. It made Astra’s heart churn.

She shakes the nostalgic feeling off and finishes her sweep of the place, there’s a ground to ceiling mirror across the back wall that makes the place look bigger and a couple reclining chairs on the furthest side wall. Her gaze travels to the speakers that had been terrorizing her poor flowers. They’re right there, all shiny and new and taunting her. She wishes for a moment she had taken her shovel with her so she could smash them to pieces.

She doesn’t dwell on it though, because she notices the backlit table on the corner, where someone is currently sitting. She can’t tell what the person is drawing and they haven’t noticed her yet, so she takes a second to study them. Her eyes linger on the pulled back curls and the shapely shoulders, their thin but well defined arms that end in long, elegant fingers that handle the pencil with dexterity.

It’s then she realizes those fingers are currently idle. So she looks up to meet a pair of dark brown eyes framed by a raised eyebrow on the back wall mirror.

_ Shit, she’s hot.  _

Astra feels like now would be the perfect time for a hole to appear underneath her feet and swallow her. She wouldn’t mind hiding out in hell for a week or two.

The woman turns around with a squeak of her chair and not very subtly checks her out. She supposes it’s only fair since she had been doing the same not a minute before. 

“Can I help you?” She drawls in a British accent and damn John for not telling her his friend was not only hot but had a gorgeous voice. Astra shakes the though away and forces a smile to her face.

“Uh, sorry, I’m... uh, just-”  _ Shit _ _._ She had walked in intent on yelling and now all she can do was stutter like a fucking fool, so she takes a deep breath and starts over. As she collects herself, the woman stands up and walks toward the counter,she looks amused but doesn’t say anything. “I’m Astra, I own the flower shop next door, just came in to see how you’re settling in.”

“Oh, you’re John-o’s almost step daughter.” Astra pulls a face and the woman quickly amends. “Sorry, sore subject? I won’t mention it again. I’m Charlie, by the way.”

“It’s fine, really, just- weird thinking of it like that, that’s all.” Astra smiles again now, but it comes to her more easily this time. Charlie just stands there, sympathetic look on her eyes and Astra starts to feel antsy. “So... were you drawing a tattoo?”

That seems to snap Charlie out of whatever funk she got lost in. “Oh, no, just doodling, it’s been a slow day today.” She crosses the room back to the table and turns the light off, taking the paper and bringing it to the glossy counter. “What do you think?”

It’s a flower, that much Astra can tell. “What is it supposed to be?” Astra picks up the paper and inspects it more closely.

“So you own a flower shop and can’t even recognize a flower? Business must be going so great for you.” Astra holds back the urge to roll her eyes, Charlie probably thinks she’s being so cute.

“I can tell my flowers apart just fine, thank you. It’s yours that looks like nothing that actually exists.”

“Well.” Charlie tears the paper from her fingers “it was supposed to be a carnation, if you’re really interested in knowing, now it’s only going to be trash.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic. You only need to make the petals a little less rounded, and a little more frilly, or it’ll look like a peony.” Charlie just stands there, drawing in hand, looking at her like she sprouted two heads and is talking alien. “Just, come with me.”

Astra turns around and marches out, doesn’t even look back to see if Charlie followed. She smiles when the music cuts off abruptly and the bell rings a second time.

She walks into her own shop, the difference from the one next door is laughable. The dark wooden flooring of the tattoo parlor gives place to a light cement finish and the original brick is painted over in white. The back wall is a navy blue that contrasts nicely with the assortment of colorful ribbons hanging on the display.

Astra walks up the the side where a big wooden table is all but hidden beneath the buckets full of flowers, she grabs a white carnation and turns around, angling the flower towards Charlie.

“See? Frilly.” Astra smiles when Charlie leans in to study it, raising a hand but stopping before she actually touches the flower. “Go on, you can touch it, they’re sturdier than they look.”

Astra isn’t one to lie to herself, there’s something she finds captivating about Charlie’s curiosity. How she touches the petals gently and raises one up, studying it against the light. When she looks back up there’s a smile on the corner of her mouth.

“Thank you, pictures really don’t do them justice.” 

“They really don’t.” Astra studies Charlie for a couple more seconds, the other woman still looking at her with that smile. “You know what? Take this one with you, it’s supposed to be a good luck flower.”

“Oh? Do they all have meanings?” She seems actually surprised by the bit of information.

“Yes. The red one is for passion, the yellow for rejection and the pink one is for motherly love.” Astra smiles appreciatively as she runs her fingers throw the smooth petals. Her mother used to sit with her sometimes, teaching her the meanings and then quizzing her after.

“Wow, I had no idea flowers could be so deep.” This time Astra doesn’t hold back the scoff and raises a challenging eyebrow.

“What? You thought they existed just to look pretty? Like tattoos?” 

“Oi, not fair, tattoos can get pretty deep.” Charlie narrows her eyes at her but it’s so non threatening Astra almost giggles. Almost. She won’t giggle ever, not even for the gorgeous woman in front of her.

“Yeah, just ask John’s tramp stamp.” That makes Charlie double over in laughter, but taking care not to ruin the flower in her hand. Astra joins in with a small laugh of her own. 

The bell on top of her door rings, and Charlie stops laughing, startled. She looks around and then back to Astra, bites her crimson colored lips. Astra definitely doesn’t look at them for a little too long.

“I should get going, how much for the flower?” Astra should feel bad about leaving her client waiting, but she really doesn’t want Charlie to leave just yet. She sighs.

“Nothing, this one’s on the house. But if you ever want to come back and check another one out we’ll talk.” She throws it out casually, but hopes the tattoo artist will take the offer up. Charlie raises an eyebrow.

“Or, I could design you a tattoo?” _ Bingo _ . Astra leans to side, resting her hip on the table, she hums appreciatively.

“Now things are getting interesting.”

“Well, what’s your style?” Charlie prods, eyes scanning Astra’s face. She actually looks excited at he prospect of drawing the tattoo. She smirks.

“I don’t know, you tell me. I want to be surprised.” 

“Okay then.” Charlie elongates the ‘o’ as she gives Astra another one over. “I know just what to do.” 

“What?” Astra usually prides herself on being a composed person, but she just can’t contain her curiosity around Charlie, it seems.

“It’s a _surprise_.” Charlie turns around in a flair of leather and chains and walks to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

She’s gone before Astra can even reply, and she takes a few seconds to mull over that whole interaction. Things certainly did not go as expected, but they might’ve gone just a lot better. She caresses the carnations before turning to her customer with a smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting, what can I help you with today, sir?”

This time when the music starts back up while she’s arranging a bouquet of buttercups, Astra smiles.


End file.
